


A Mother's Love

by forsanolim



Series: My Life Before My Eyes [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 10:09:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18280973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forsanolim/pseuds/forsanolim
Summary: If, by some mysterious twist of fate, by someone’s sick sense of humor I were to be reincarnated into a fairytale life, I wanted to be born into as boring of a story as possible.





	A Mother's Love

If, by some mysterious twist of fate, by someone’s sick sense of humor I were to be reincarnated into a fairytale life, I wanted to be born into as boring of a story as possible.No great heroes of legend, no terrible villains of nightmares, no miraculous journeys full of adventure and cunning.

 

Just a girl- she lived, she died, she was as nondescript as could be, her life as mundane as they come.She was a tiny flame that burned through all of its allotted time, lighting a small patch of space around her, and when the flame went out, it wasn’t to some great gust of wind.It was a quiet thing, just like the rest of her life- quiet, unobtrusive, leaving only the faintest trail of smoke behind.

 

As these things tend to go, I die an untimely death, wake to confusion and an existential crisis, find out where- and more importantly _when_ I am- and proceed to adapt.More or less successfully.

 

As these things also tend to go, I am _not_ actually born into that wonderful, boring life of my dreams but into a world where children are expected to fight and die as soldiers and where magic comes as close as possible to existing.

 

Hello.Allow me to introduce myself. 

 

My name is Mikoto.My family name is Uchiha.

 

* * *

 

It takes me a while to come to terms with things- with living in a formerly fictional world, with knowing that I would eventually die, with knowing _how_ I would eventually die, among other things- but I make do.

 

That doesn’t mean that I have to like those same things or accept them as they are.

 

And so, as any reasonable person would, I try to change that terribly finicky thing called Fate.

 

I listen, I learn, I train, and I try _not_ to give away how everything is eating away at me.

 

I “earn” my Sharigan when my teammates fall to an ambush.

 

I “achieve” my Mangekyo when my parents go down fighting and I gut the one man they hadn’t yet managed to subdue.

 

My breaths come too harshly but my hands are completely still.

 

My grandparents are _so very proud_.

 

* * *

 

I learn that my intended’s name is Fugaku.

 

I learn that I have an _intended_.

 

I learn that the arrangement was decided the moment my parents learned that they were having a daughter.

 

I learn that my grandparents will not hear of breaking the engagement.

 

I learn that the boy named Fugaku has eyes that alternate between too bright and too serious.He is so eager to please, to do the right thing.

 

The boy smiles at me with those wide, hopeful eyes that entreat me to smile back.

 

* * *

 

I make jounin, the youngest in my age group, and I throw everything I have into missions.

 

_Maybe_ , I think, _maybe I can show that I’m worth more than just a brood mare._

 

The number of successful missions steadily grows.I make friends, many of whom I consider closer than my own blooded family.We laugh, we take missions, we eat out and drink, and dream in whispers of what our futures will be.

 

_Nothing_ , the other part of me croons, _There is nothing you can do to change the future._

 

* * *

 

“I love you,” he murmurs, and I believe that he believes those words.

 

“I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world,” he says, and I force back bile.

 

* * *

 

My last stand ends in a locked room sealed against anyone short of a Kage-ranked shinobi.

 

Threats of disownment had not worked; I knew my eyes too valuable for them to lose.

 

Threats of dishonor and guilt had not worked.The elders had already seen me honorably discharged; there was nothing more they could take from me from there.

 

Threats of starvation had not worked.I would die before I bent to their will.

 

Sweet words and honeyed smiles had not worked; the boy, now a man, had found a smile returned only in pity.He had not tried again.

 

They’d even tried bribes, each more extravagant and less subtle than the last.I finally cracked and laughed myself sick.

 

I’d tried to run from my proscribed fate, tried to set myself out of their reach.I learned that I had only worked myself deeper into their hands; my achievements had only proven me worthy time and again of becoming the esteemed Clan Head’s wife.

 

At long last I sit beneath falling flower petals in the crisp spring air wearing a gown much too heavy and convoluted to be practical.Seated directly across, the Clan Head regards me with guarded eyes and a courteous smile, no trace of the shy boy left in him.As I take a delicate sip from the dish with painted lips, I see porcelain masks watching a woman with an open laugh as bright as her hair.A lady with shrewd eyes who was as wise as she was kind.A man who dared to dream despite what others told him.A boy on the cusp of adulthood who swore to protect his friends and teammates and even now is training his hours away.I close my eyes and breathe, counting the faces that should be present and that I have not seen now for many long months.I count their number as well as of those in the shadows who would dare to harm them, and I swallow.There are words.There are greetings exchanged.Then it is done.

 

* * *

 

My first child is a son.His name is Itachi, and he is the most beautiful thing I have seen in this world.

 

I look at him, and I remember wonder.

 

I look at him, and I try to forget what lies ahead.

 

* * *

 

My second child is also a son.His name is Sasuke, and as much as I love him, I know that I am running out of time.

 

I see him chasing after Itachi, and I remember what it is to laugh.

 

I see him in his brother’s arms, and I remember what it is to be proud.

 

I hear their laughter, and I pray for no more.I beg for just one more day.

 

* * *

 

They grow so quickly.

 

I remember those words from a lifetime ago, and they are reflected in my here and now.

 

My boys try so hard, and when they excel, I can’t help but want to hold them back.

 

I watch them sleep, watch the scars blossom on their skin, and I wonder what more I could have done, what more I could be doing.

 

* * *

 

The coup is happening.Of that, there is no question.

 

The elders make their plans, and I make mine.

 

The preparations are surprisingly easy.Mikoto the jounin has long since been forgotten, replaced by Mikoto the homemaker, wife of the Clan Head, and mother of the Clan’s future.

 

The timing is delicate but manageable.The Clan Head’s wife is throwing a dinner, the first in a long time, and everyone is invited. 

 

The news spreads at the speed of a particularly juicy piece of gossip. 

 

The food is good, the drinks are plentiful, and there is something for everyone from the smallest of babes to the oldest of elders.That the dinner also provides a setting to increase solidarity and to rub shoulders with some of the Clan’s most powerful needs not be said.One would have to be a fool to turn down such an invitation.

 

No one comments on how the wine selection leans towards the sweeter side or how the serving plates are particularly polished.It is, after all, a great honor to be served by the Clan Head’s wife herself.

 

Full of food and drink and assured by good company, the inhabitants of the Uchiha Compound rest quiet in the hours after their last supper.

 

A few loose ends stain the ground red, settling swiftly with at most a silent scream.

 

They should not have forgotten.

 

Sasuke- my poor, innocent Sasuke- sleeps in his room upstairs, unaware of how his world has changed, of how his world is about to change.And he will remain unaware until after dawn breaks.

 

The moon reaches its zenith as two figures race through the silent compound.One comes to stand before me, tension and confusion evident in every line of his body.Only after the last handful of orbs leaves my hand into the fire do I look up into a set of familiar red eyes, asking, pleading, disbelieving.

 

“Will you avenge them?” I ask, my posture lax but ready.

 

“Why?” he asks.His hands are trembling but not yet reaching for a weapon.An oversight that could get him killed under any other circumstances but understandable, I suppose, in this case.

 

“Your brother is sleeping upstairs,” I remark instead of answering. “He will find out soon enough when morning comes.”

 

“ _Why_?” Itachi repeats, not something he is prone to doing around anyone outside of Sasuke when my youngest requests it, but then again, unusual circumstances and all that.

 

“The story won’t change,” I say, and even I’m not sure why I am avoiding the question at this point.No, that’s a lie, but I shake myself free of the thought.“You will still be known as the rogue ninja who slaughtered his Clan.You will still be hunted and chased for the crimes of those who came before you.”

 

The fire is dying down, the flames flickering low with nothing fueling it anymore, the area around it and its contents charred beyond recognition or recovery.

 

Itachi finally draws a kunai, his hand steady despite the turmoil brewing behind his eyes, trying to understand, to connect the pieces.

 

“You couldn’t have known,” he accuses.

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“Then how-“

 

I smile. “A mother has a way of knowing, Itachi.”

 

I can feel the imposter approaching and know that we are almost out of time.I lunge across what little space between us and don’t bother suppressing a smile at the jerking, aborted movement his hand makes despite knowing his mission, despite knowing what I have done.

 

Warmth spreads between us, and red stains his armor as evidence of the atrocities he has committed.

 

Itachi- my dear, sweet, _kind_ , eldest son- jerks back a step but I follow, holding on as though desperate for the contact.That’s also a lie.There is no “as though.”

 

“I love you, Itachi” I breathe, “I’m so proud of you, my son.So proud.”

 

A suspicious wetness spreads on my shoulder.

 

“Don’t cry for me, Itachi,” I say, trying to reassure, but the wetness only grows and I can’t help but be amused.“You truly are a kind child.”

 

I reach up, stroking the back of my eldest’s head as I had done so often when he was younger, before time had taken even that away.

 

“Mother-“ he chokes.

 

“Shh, shh,” I whisper.Has my hand always been this heavy?But Itachi’s hair is so soft, so smooth and gentle like the boy himself.I reach up again.

 

“I wanted to spare you,” I explain, pushing back a cough at the taste of iron in my mouth. “I couldn’t spare you so many pains, my beautiful son, but I wanted to spare you this.It won’t change what the world thinks or says about you.It won’t change anything in the grand scheme of things, but I wanted to spare you this one pain.”

 

“Why- You didn’t have to.I could have-“

 

“I know.You could have done it, my brave, kind Itachi.You would have completed your mission.You would have fulfilled your duty.I know.”

 

Bare metal strikes earth.A strong set of arms wraps around me, pulling close, and I have to hold back a wince of pain.As happy as his response makes me, I draw back a bit, holding my son’s face between my palms and gently wiping the tears away.

 

“Go.Live your life free of the burdens our Clan has laden onto you.You’re already such a wonderful young man.I’m so proud of you.”

 

“Mother, I-“ The words sound like they cost him, forcing them out.He tries again, fails, but that’s okay, and I tell him so.

 

“It’s okay, Itachi.It’ll be okay.And whatever you decide, whichever road you choose, know that I will always love you.”

 

The village alarm blares, and we are out of time.My perspective shifts and my back contacts compact dirt, guided by solid hands.Itachi glances around, unsure, but I’ve made certain that the only thing left to do is flee.

 

“Go,” I urge again, and Itachi finally steps away.He glances at the metal still embedded in my stomach and disappears without a sound.

 

I like to think that the “I love you” in the wind is not just my imagination.

 

The night is loud, and the wind is cold.Some of my life was mundane, parts of my story boring, and I suppose I lived the extent of my allotted time. 

 

The sky is dark, and the stars shine through.The smell of blood permeates the air, but I think maybe, just maybe, I might have made a small bit of difference.


End file.
